Remo The Vampire Slayer
by Guy Fox
Summary: Who would win in a cage fight, Remo Williams The Destroyer, or Buffy The Vampire Slayer?


THE DESTROYER MEETS THE SLAYER  
  
BY GUYFOX@EARTHLINK.NET  
© 9/20/200 BLUNT TRAUMA ENTERTAINMENT  
EXCEPT FOR THE PARTS I DON'T HAVE THE RIGHTS TO…  
(THE DESTOYER CREATED BY MURPHY AND SAPIR, CURRENTLY OWNED BY WORLDWIDE   
LIBRARY, A SUBSIDIARY OF HARLEQUIN ENTERPRISES, GO FIGURE; THE SLAYER CREATED   
BY JOSS WHEDON, OWNED BY MUTANT ENEMY GRR ARG.)  
  
  
CHAPTER ONE:  
  
A small girl, blonde, looking barely eighteen and as though she might have just slipped   
away from an unwelcome surprise party, crouched low behind a gravestone. She kept her   
cloak wrapped tight around her, to silence any rattling from the array of weapons   
Velcroed inside.   
  
A few feet away, two very spiky demons clawed madly at a fresh grave. Grunting   
primitively, they reached only a few inches down before the girl vaulted over the   
memorial, flung her cape open and withdrew a long, sharply carved stake. Then, because   
her dramatic entrance had gone unnoticed, she cleared her throat with an annoyed   
undertone. They still didn't hear.  
  
"Hey," she called. "Buffy's here. Either do the attack thing or run away. But don't ignore   
me, that's rude."   
  
The demons turned. Seeing, and better, smelling, such a frail and delectable thing   
standing alone in the dark, the savage beasts gave up their digging and leaped toward her.   
As easily as if she were sidestepping a dandelion in the breeze, she maneuvered between   
the humanoid monsters, thumping one between the shoulder-blades and firmly plunging   
the wooden dagger into the chest of the second. A spurt of chartreuse blood squirted the   
girl's face and torso, and though disgusted that some of it went into her mouth, she   
thought it tasted strangely sweet. Like a wounded animal, the demon began to run away   
despite the stake in its chest, while its companion scrambled up and attacked her from   
behind.   
  
"Mister Pointy!" she cried, realizing she was in a quandary. On the one hand, she had an   
immediate demon to deal with, but she also did not want to lose the precious stake lodged   
in the body of the other, who apparently did not have any vital organ in the typical spot   
where it had punctured.   
  
With remarkable quickness, she grabbed the nearby demon by the arm, spun him as if in   
an Olympic hammer throw, and launched him toward the running monster. Its feet left   
the ground and it tumbled through the air until its spiked head rammed its companion's   
back. Before the two stopped their skid across the grass of the graveyard, the girl was   
sprinting toward them, tossing the one on top and flipping the unfortunate on the bottom.   
Bracing its body with her left hand, she withdrew the stake in a fluid motion. Now   
without a cork-like object in its chest, blood dribbled like a leaky faucet, incapacitating   
the monster. She looked to the second and seeing that now, as its head was on backward,   
it would be no more threat either.   
  
Looking fondly at her stake she said, "I'm so glad to have you back, Mister Pointy." Her   
mind wandered to the late friend who had left it to her, the beautiful foe who had become   
her friend. Her name had been Kendra, and her dark, Caribbean skin would glisten under   
the moon, when back to back or facing each other they would take on the night and all its   
challenges. Sadly, but resolutely, she resumed her patrol.  
  
  
CHAPTER TWO:  
  
His name was Remo, and he had the right to be judgmental because he had just walked a   
mile in another man's shoes.   
  
Boots, actually, snakeskin, and surprisingly the right size for Remo's feet. How fortuitous   
for him that the suburban thug who had annoyed him outside the coffee shop had the   
same size feet—feet now broken because the thug would not mend his ways after Remo   
politely informed him that it was customary to tip a waitress who promptly brings you   
your food and drinks. True, the bad patron had also said some rude things about Remo's   
parentage (which the orphan Remo would never be able to verify or deny, but rude   
nonetheless), and it was with this in the fore of his mind that prompted Remo to grab the   
pockets of the man's pants and spin him 180 degrees, so he was balanced on his head.   
Once Remo had removed the boots, he experimented by trying to fit coffee cups on the   
man's feet.   
  
Remo guessed that the jerk would probably always be a generous tipper in the future, if   
he even had the balls to wheel himself into another restaurant. This made Remo smile.   
  
And, by Remo's count, he'd actually walked eight miles.   
  
So, new boots afoot, Remo walked along the beach of Sunnydale, California, out of the   
downtown and tourist area, north toward the city's university. Though he traveled a lot   
in his work, he had not spent much time on America's west coast; in fact, he had never   
been to a town so sunny, so sandy, so suburban, and yet so thoroughly steeped in an   
undertow of evil. But strangely, it made this former inner-city cop and world adventurer   
feel at home.   
  
Remo worked for a super-secret government agency called CURE. Even now, he wasn't   
sure what the acronym stood for; what he did know was that he, Remo Williams; his   
martial arts instructor Chiun; their boss, Harold W. Smith; and the current president were   
the only people alive and sane who knew the true purpose of CURE (though he wasn't   
always sure Chiun was sane.) They were also the only people who knew that Remo was   
in Sunnydale to investigate what had happened to a military base affiliated with the   
University that had been attacked and destroyed. From what Smith had told Remo, this   
base was a black ops project that even the president was not fully aware of, but from what   
the president could tell them, and what Smith could determine through his own   
information channels, it was an investigation into some supernatural events that occurred   
in and around Sunnydale. Whether the U.S. government was secretly trying to contain it,   
eliminate it, assimilate it, or was the source of it, nobody could say.  
  
Remo wasn't sure he bought the supernatural angle, but he'd seen enough weird things in   
the last few years not to dismiss it. So he thought he'd sniff around, find what he could   
find, allow Chiun to scoff, then report to Smith.   
  
The university was situated on a cliff over a bay, and faced south into the Pacific Ocean.   
To the north was a protected wetlands, Remo assumed that the biological science   
department did some studies there, and to the east was undeveloped land the university   
owned. Judging from the excavation equipment and yellow tape, Remo saw that   
construction of the Cultural Partnership Center had been delayed, due to the discovery of   
native artifacts. This was on the southeastern edge of the developed campus.   
  
But he also found construction equipment in the northeastern corner of the campus,   
between the natural science buildings and community of frat houses. Remo was   
particularly intrigued by this because the earthmovers and cement mixers were all new   
and unmarked. They showed signs of recent use, but did not have any identifiers or serial   
numbers visible. The one truck in that area had a military license plate.   
  
Taking off his new boots, Remo walked on the lawn barefoot. The grass was cool and the   
dirt fresh. It had recently been planted in sheets and had not taken root yet. More than   
that, Remo could feel that the ground beneath it was too dense and solid, as though a   
cavern had recently been filled in with cement. Remo did not need the power of Sinanju   
to know that he'd found the right place.  
  
  
CHAPTER THREE  
  
After a few more hours of patrols, Buffy grew bored with the lack of supernatural   
nightlife, and decided to pack it in. Her rounds had led her to the beach beneath the   
university at which she was a student by day. The night was slightly foggy, and cold with   
a sea-borne wind. Aside from a few gulls, Buffy was alone on the beach except for one   
man walking toward the cliffs. She watched him for a moment, thinking it was odd that a   
skinny man like him would not be cold wearing only a black t-shirt with no jacket, but   
when he ignored her, she turned to head home. Then she stopped and looked back at   
him. There was something about him that intrigued her… he didn't have that demon vibe,   
and he was old—as old as her Watcher, Giles, at least. But still, there was something   
attractive about him. Momentarily, though, he disappeared into the mist and shadows and   
she couldn't see him any more. Then she walked back to the parking lot, and followed the   
bicycle path up the hill to the dorms.   
  
In the morning, her first class of the day complete, and the next not for several hours, she   
headed to the student union to meet her friend Willow. She was surprised to see Giles   
there, too. They were talking animatedly. Buffy ran across the courtyard to them.   
  
"Trouble?" she asked, knowing that if her Watcher came all the way across town to find   
her, something dire must be brewing. She noted that he held his bulging valise in hand,   
and mentally steeled herself to use whatever weapons were inside against this terrible, if   
yet unknown, threat.   
  
"Er, no…" Giles stuttered, seeing the look of worry upon her innocent, wholesome face.   
"Actually, I'm here for a job interview." Buffy's crest fell to an expression both relieved   
and disappointed. Giles knew that she had grown to love her role as Slayer, and though it   
worried him, she was the most successful and long-lived Slayer the Watcher's Society   
had chronicled. "The library," he continued. "They have an opening for a, well, a   
librarian. And I do have some experience in that field."  
  
Willow spoke with excitement. "Wouldn't it be cool it Giles got the job here? It would be   
just like old times, all of us hanging around the library together, talking strategy, saving   
the world."   
  
"That would be great," Buffy said, secretly feeling somewhat disappointed. Lately, all of   
their strategy meetings had been held at Giles' house, which was much more comfortable   
than a drafty, musty library. Also, since the destruction of Sunnydale High School, where   
Giles had last been employed as a librarian, he had been unemployed and taken to drink.   
More than once Giles drank to excess, which of course meant that Buffy, Willow and   
their friends could help themselves to the wine that Giles would then pour freely.   
Sometimes they could get him to play his guitar and sing.   
  
"Urm, yes," Giles said, then added, "I'm aware the university library has an extensive   
collection on Medieval Metaphysics. I may already have some of those books, but it   
would be interesting to peruse."   
  
He paused, and momentarily realized the girls were bored. "So," he added, "how were the   
patrols last night?"  
  
"Routine," answered Buffy. "A couple of cannibal demons in the cemetery, nothing else.   
I saw one guy walking on the beach a while after midnight, but nothing strange."   
  
"Excellent," said Giles.  
  
  
CHAPTER FOUR  
  
When Remo returned to the bungalow where he and Chiun were staying, the old Korean   
was watching his most hated of soap operas on television, "The Sun Also Sets." Chiun   
was cursing.  
  
"Clumsy oaf!" he bellowed at one of two men brawling. "You fight like a wounded   
bunny! Is it any wonder the imbecile who has stolen your woman is beating you? And   
you," –he turned to the imbecile— "even a infant born in the beauteous village of Sinanju   
would have enough skill to defeat you in battle. What that woman, with the face of a fish   
and the voice of a cicada, would see in you or the oaf, I will never understand!"  
  
"Hey, Chiun," called Remo, when his trainer and friend did not turn to greet him. He   
knew that even though his back was to the door, Chiun was very aware of his entry.   
"Enjoying your stories?"  
  
"Yes," said Chiun with a smile, "very much."   
  
"Shall I wait until the show is over to tell you what I've discovered?"   
  
"It would not make any difference, since the rasping of your breath is as disturbing as the   
roar of a train on fire. With you here I will not be able to concentrate on this small joy   
that I am able to find in your pathetic and uncultured country."   
  
"All right, then."   
  
Remo filled him in on the recent underground construction. Since the university had a   
reputation for a strong behavioral sciences division, it made sense that any research into   
the supernatural would be linked to them. That the building was located next to frat row   
suggested that the soldiers involved in the operation had a nearby place to live, and likely   
a secret entrance into the compound. But whatever had been down there was now   
completely inaccessible, having been buried under tons of concrete, thanks to untraceable   
machinery. He didn't mention that he had just left his new boots in the shrubs bordering   
the motel, since he had since a mother cat and her kittens living there. The boots would   
give them more shelter than his feet needed.   
  
When he was finished, Remo waited for Chiun to reply. "Why do you tell me all this?"   
he asked.  
  
"I thought you'd like to know why were are here."  
  
"Self-important buffoon. It matters not to me. Tell Emperor Smith."   
  
So Remo called Smith to repeat the story. Then he looked in the phonebook for a nearby   
shoe store, so he could buy a new pair of loafers. First he had to retrieve the phonebook   
from one of Chiun's fourteen steamer trunks that he always insisted on taking on their   
travels; it was in the same trunk as all the Bibles Chiun had stolen from every motel   
where the pair had stayed, including this one. Chiun had also already taken all the towels   
and soaps.  
  
  
CHAPTER FIVE  
  
Her day's classes complete, Buffy planned to meet her boyfriend Riley at his frat house.   
Aside from being a teaching assistant in the behavioral sciences department, Riley had   
also been undercover soldier for The Initiative, a military organization that had been   
trying to contain the supernatural elements of Sunnydale. In their several years in town,   
they had accomplished less than Buffy had alone, except for certain experiments that   
spun madly out of control and ultimately were the downfall of the Initiative.  
  
Buffy was unsure whether Riley was still commissioned in the army after several   
unauthorized expeditions he had led, not to mention outright acts of contempt. She   
suspected that he might have been threatened with a court martial, then blackmailed his   
superiors with his knowledge of the whole operation. It bothered Buffy that Riley   
wouldn't talk about it, since secrets had already done some damage to their relationship.   
But she didn't push it, since truth be told, she still had secrets of her own.   
  
Riley's house was just off campus, the first along Frat Row, with a ??COS logo above   
the door. When she received no answer to her knock, she let herself in with the plan of   
waiting in the living room until he arrived. Several of Riley's housemates had died   
recently, several others dropped out, so only a handful still lived in the house. They all   
knew Buffy and would not be surprised to see here there.   
  
She had only been there a few minutes when there was a knock at the door. Curious and   
bored, she opened it. The visitor was a man indeterminately between 30 and 50, wearing   
a black t-shirt, Chinos, and a pair of loafers so new, Buffy could still smell the leather and   
hear them squeak. There was something strangely familiar about him, but Buffy couldn't   
place it.  
  
"Hi," he said. "Any of the brothers home? This was my old frat in college, and since I   
was in town I thought I'd visit the house."   
  
"Oh," she said, surprised. "Nobody's around right now, but I guess you can wait."   
Cautiously, she stepped back but did not invite him in. He walked in without impediment.   
"I'm Buffy," she said. "My boyfriend lives here. What did you say your name was?"  
  
"Remo," he answered. "Remo McBolan."   
  
Buffy shadowed him into the living room. She stood by him until he said in a reclining   
chair, then she sat opposite him on the couch. They sat in silence, conspicuously not   
staring at each other, instead glancing at the trophies and pictures around the room. Buffy   
felt that there was something strange about this man; she was almost sure that the name   
he gave her was not real.   
  
Remo, on the other hand, could tell there was something odd about the girl, too. His   
training in Sinanju was thorough enough that he could tell when he was seeing a person   
of unusual martial skill. She seemed to be an awkward, young girl, but her movements   
actually were fluid, she had a keen eye for everything going on around her, and Remo   
sensed an aura about her (as much as he disdained the phrase) of mystical power. He   
would have known if Buffy had been trained in Sinanju, but maybe she had been trained   
in one of the other martial arts that was still relatively pure. Or perhaps she was an avatar   
of some mystical force; come to think of it, he'd met those before, so maybe the   
supernatural rumors of this town weren't so far off.   
  
"Mind if I have a look around?" he finally asked.   
  
"Uh," Buffy answered, "go ahead, I guess. Just don't go into the bedrooms, that would   
be, like, and invasion of privacy or something. But you can look around."   
  
"Okay." He got up and walked around the room, then out. She heard him go upstairs.   
  
About five minutes later, the stranger came back down. He didn't seem nearly as bored as   
Buffy felt.   
  
"Thanks," he offered. "I guess none of the brothers are around. Thanks for letting me in.   
It was nice to see good, old Pi Delta Cosine."  
  
Remo let himself out.   
  
  
CHAPTER SIX  
  
It wasn't five minutes before Riley arrived at his house, and Buffy immediately told him   
about the strange encounter with the skinny man in black clothes. She wasn't sure there   
was anything dangerous about him, but his interest in the frat house seemed unusual,   
especially because she knew there were secret elevators leading into the Initiative   
compound. Riley had told her that the military had recently destroyed the facility and the   
elevators no longer worked (the back stairs, and even the tunnel into the woods, had all   
been destroyed as well), but even so, there were reasons to be suspicious.   
  
Riley was actively alarmed at the news. When Buffy asked why, he gently clutched her   
biceps and spoke directly to her.   
  
"Because this house has only been here a couple of years. You said this guy was as old as   
Giles; if he'd attended college here, it couldn't have been in this house. Pi Delt is a fake   
fraternity we created as a cover, and the house was only bought as an extension of the   
Initiative." He turned and paced. "Before that, this was that freaky orphanage,   
remember?"   
  
Memories of the night of that revelation flooded Buffy's senses. She paused to clear her   
head. "But, if this house wasn't his frat," Buffy wondered, "why did he want to see it?"  
  
" Clearly, he was investigating the Initiative."  
  
"But it's been disbanded."  
  
"Not everybody knows that… or maybe he was looking for something that was left   
behind."  
  
Because the Initiative was officially kaput, Buffy and Riley decided to call their other   
source of information against the mysterious—Giles.  
  
***  
  
Remo brought his version of the mystery to Chiun. He said first that the military   
operation was completely shut down, and what was apparently a secret entrance through   
the frat house was no longer viable. More intriguing, though, was the girl he met. Remo   
had difficulty explaining the feeling he got from her. Not attraction as such, because   
though she was beautiful she was little more than child. (This self-control actually   
surprised Chiun, who concluded she must be remarkably small-breasted.) Instead, Remo   
said that the girl possessed a great deal of power he could not describe. It was almost as   
though she were a Master of Sinanju, though that was clearly impossible. Chiun was the   
only true Master of Sinanju alive, and he had never trained anyone else as long as Remo   
had known him, let alone a girl.   
  
"Perhaps you have met The Slayer," Chiun answered.  
  
"The slayer?" Remo asked.  
  
"The Slayer! Have you learned nothing from your lessons, mindless, white ape? I clearly   
remember telling you of the powers and purpose of The Slayer early in your training."  
  
"Wait a minute, you mean the one who kills vampires and demons? I didn't take you   
seriously back then. Besides, you were talking about vampires."  
  
"Do you take me seriously now?"  
  
"Of course, Little Father."   
  
"Then why do you not take your memory seriously, Buffoon? Especially when we stand   
on the lip of the Hellmouth?"  
  
"Hellmouth?" Remo asked.   
  
  
CHAPTER SEVEN  
  
Chiun hated to repeat the lessons he taught Remo. In general, the only things Chiun liked   
to repeat were the tales of his own greatness within the glory of Sinanju and its legacy.   
Nonetheless, he deigned this time to lecture Remo again with the early lesson of the   
chosen one of each generation who fights the forces of darkness in those places where the   
underworld is most closely linked to this world. Remo listened carefully, taking in the   
new information he needed and refreshing his memory with what he had been taught   
before.   
  
He drove them back to frat row on the northeast corner of campus, hoping the girl would   
still be at the suspicious house, and that maybe one of the soldiers had returned. More   
than likely, if he lived at that house, the girl's boyfriend was probably one of them. On   
the other hand, if she were the Slayer, perhaps the girl was part of this black operation as   
well. Funny how government secrets work.   
  
He parked at the mouth of the cul-de-sac where this frat house stood. The pair waited in   
the car for a moment, as a dented and creaky Citroen limped itself against the curb just in   
front of them. A scholarly looking man in a sweater vest got out, then helped a red-haired   
girl, college aged, climb over the seat; apparently the passenger door did not work. She   
adjusted the seat so a boy in a Hawaiian shirt could climb out from the back, then two   
more girls: one with short brown hair, and the other a long blonde.   
  
Remo figured it was some sort of study group, so he reached for his own door handle. He   
felt Chiun's long-fingernails rest lightly on his arm with enough power to hold him down.   
"Wait," said the Master of Sinanju.   
  
Remo watched the group cross the street, avoiding the stream of bicyclists emerging from   
the campus, and then enter the ??COS frat house.   
  
"Could you not sense the power in them?" Chiun inquired of his pupil.  
  
"They looked like a group of students."   
  
"The adult is a sorcerer—a poor one, but studied in western magic. Two of the girls were   
witches as well, and the third was the shadow of a force of evil. They are all involved in   
this mystery."  
  
"What about the boy with them?"  
  
"He is nothing. A cypher. He takes up space. Much like you did, when you were brought   
to me for training."   
  
"Great—maybe he's another one of my kids who I don't know about. I'll have to talk to   
Smitty about that."  
  
Instantly forgetting this thought, the Destroyer and his teacher approached the house too.   
Like a good neighbor, Remo knocked on the door, but before the tenants could respond,   
Chiun tapped it with the tips of his mighty fingernails and sent splinters of wood   
shattering into the alcove. This drew the attention of the people inside.   
  
Chiun majestically strode into the house with Remo shaking his head behind him. The   
faces of the study group they'd just seen, librarian and all, plus the spunky blonde girl   
and an oversized boy scout holding her hand, peered down the hall from the living room.   
As the pair approached, the girl and her beau leapt to their feet already in defensive   
positions. The others slowly stood, took ranks behind them, and looked as though they   
were ready to be clobbered.   
  
"You!" Chiun accused the girl, "Are you The Slayer?"  
  
"What's it to you, Confucius?" she replied.  
  
"Confucius? Do not confuse me with that Chinese hack," the old man said. "He spouted   
self-evident platitudes to country peasants in order to trick them out of their meals; he   
plagiarized the glory of Sinanju and diluted it into fairy tales used to keep children in   
line. You sully my ears with his name, and you tarnish my greatness by associating me   
with him."  
  
The man in the sweater spoke up. "You are familiar with the legacy of The Slayer?"  
  
"Of course! Am I not Chiun, Master Of Sinanju? I am familiar with all warriors and their   
legacies. Her heritage is great and noble, though it pales against the light that is Sinanju.   
Such a shame that my pupil must now destroy her."  
  
The girl spoke again. "You may know Slayers, but you don't know me if you think that   
some spy with the face of a movie star can destroy me." She tensed further.   
  
"Wait, just a moment, Buffy." The man walked between his friends and the strangers.   
"Did you say, 'Sinanju'?"   
  
"I did," spake the Asian. His pupil was leaning casually against the doorframe.   
  
"I've heard of it," said the scholar, "but I've never found anyone who has actually studied   
that art."  
  
Buffy interrupted again. "Giles, what are you talking about?"  
  
He turned slightly. "Sinanju. It's a village in North Korea where allegedly the first true   
martial art was born. Different methods of self-defense and fighting, of course, have   
sprung up around the world. But the stories say that all those forms were brought to a   
fishing village in North Korea several thousand years ago, studied by the villagers, and   
transformed into a pure fighting system. All other types of martial arts, it is said, then   
came out of Sinanju and spread across the far east, but they were not complete—they   
lacked the purity, the… soul, for lack of a better word, of the source."  
  
"The sun source," Chiun corrected.   
  
"Erm, yes," Giles agreed. "Reportedly, masters of Sinanju are the most deadly assassins   
the world has ever known. Their reputation alone has been enough to drive whole   
kingdoms into exile."  
  
"Your explanation is woefully simplistic, but as accurate as a naïve, western telling could   
be, O Ignorant White," Chiun added.   
  
"Ignorant?" muttered Giles.  
  
Buffy spoke again. "That still doesn't explain why the man in black wants to destroy   
me."   
  
The man in black stood up straight and spoke for the first time since he'd returned. "I   
don't want to, Babe. But the people I work for want me to find out what's downstairs,   
and you're standing in my way."  
  
The tall, young man behind Buffy responded. "There's nothing down there. The army   
filled it in—cement. Everything's destroyed. You're wasting your time."  
  
The new opponent looked intrigued. "You know something about it. Then I need to talk   
to you." He took two steps forward.   
  
Buffy seemed to merely shift a foot but was suddenly standing directly between them.   
"You don't get him without going through me, Remo… if that really is your name."   
  
Buffy's left hand was extended slightly, with her right close to her breast; her right foot   
was forward and she was balanced on her toes, ready to sway, swing or spring. Remo too   
took fighting posture, two fingers from his right hand half-crossed and pointing, the   
others curled under; his left hand opened in front of his stomach; he was turned to the   
side, his left profile to the girl. Both waited.  
  
Buffy moved first, tensing muscles in her right arms in preparation to strike. Remo saw   
the skin contract, heard the tendons flex, and began to parry before her hand could   
approach him—his fingers untwined and sealed in a knuckle ridge. In response, Buffy's   
left fist shifted slightly. Remo pulled his palm back a micron and tightened his other   
hand. Buffy's lip twitched. Remo blinked. Buffy's tensed her eyelids and shifted her   
weight to her rear leg. Remo tightened his stomach muscles and lifted his chin   
imperceptibly. She sent a new thought to her right arm. He was ready to catch it. Blood   
pumped through her veins. His skin tingled. Every strike, every threat was anticipated   
and matched before the attack could be thrown. To her friends, it looked as though the   
combatants were standing still and twitching, in some prespastic prelude to a Saint Vitus   
tango. To Chiun, however, it was a mighty battle, and seldom had he seen one last this   
long.   
  
Eventually, the tics and flickers stopped, and the two warriors relaxed. The looked upon   
each other with respect, and each silently accepted the draw. They returned to their   
corners.   
  
"Lummox!" bellowed Chiun. "Could you not see her weaknesses? I spotted three   
different flaws in her attacks that you failed to counter! You could have defeated this girl-  
child easily, but instead you nod at her as though she's your equal!"  
  
"Chiun…" started Remo.  
  
"What will the world say about me as your trainer? I will have to sign my scrolls as   
'Chiun The Neglectful.'"   
  
"Chiun…" repeated Remo.  
  
"Scrolls?" asked Giles. "Mr. Chiun, I'd be very interested in studying your scrolls. I'm   
sure the history of Sinanju, and the training you've given this man would be absolutely   
fascinating."  
  
"Of course, Round-Eyed Librarian. I will be happy to show you my scrolls." Chiun   
paused dramatically and cocked his head. "Do you read Korean?"  
  
  
CHAPTER EIGHT  
  
Gathering around the dining room table, Remo, Buffy and the Scooby gang forgot their   
past differences but spoke cautiously. Riley couldn't help but call Remo "jarhead" upon   
learning the Destroyer had been a Marine, but only in retaliation for the "boy scout" and   
"G.I. Joe" comments Remo breathed out as easily as air.   
  
Remo offered to tell what he had found in his investigations (saying only that he worked   
for the government), and Riley confirmed what he could. Riley also admitted that for a   
vow of secrecy that he was now breaking (and he had no qualms about it), his court   
martial had been dismissed and he would be given an honorable discharge at the end of   
his tour of duty, plus forgiveness of his G.I. Bill loans. Beyond that, he was aware that   
the Army, in league with the University of California and the Trilateral Commission, had   
tried to assimilate supernatural forces into its ranks for military use. The experiment   
failed, and for that reason the Initiative had been buried under a city block's worth of   
cement. There was nothing more to tell.   
  
When Remo asked about the Hellmouth, the girl identified as Willow answered that it   
was just a dimensional portal through which the demons entered this community. It was   
located under their burned out high school. Remo thanked her breasts for this   
information.   
  
The cypher, Xander, then added that they could show it to Remo if he wanted to see it.   
He was just trying to be helpful, he didn't necessarily want his breasts thanked.  
  
Meanwhile, Giles interviewed Chiun about the history of Sinanju, glories that the   
magnanimous Chiun was eager to extol. Chiun was rarely pleased by this white that not   
only showed genuine interest in the Sun Source, but who also asked intelligent questions   
and paid attention. If only Remo had shown this discipline throughout his training, Chiun   
could have done some much more with him. This Giles, however, was far too old and   
clumsy to begin training as an assassin in the Glorious House Of Sinanju. Britons talked   
fondly of grand adventure, and this one was schooled in the technical aspects of many   
fighting styles and weapons. But when it came down to it, Englishmen were less able   
warriors even than Americans. He would never do.   
  
  
CHAPTER NINE  
  
A few hours later, Remo convinced that the Initiative was indeed kaput and that there was   
little he could do to help Buffy shut the Hellmouth, he and Chiun flew back to Laguardia   
Airport, then drove a rental car to their shared house in Rye, New York. The following   
day they would meet with Dr. Harold W. Smith, top man of CURE and the one Chiun   
called "Emperor" in the forced belief that Smith actually ran the country from behind the   
scenes; it was only under this pretense that Chiun would deign to work for him, for he   
would not work for a servant. Smith, sequestered in an office disguised by Folcroft   
Sanitarium, would rest easy knowing that supernatural monsters were neither running   
rampant in southern California, nor within the Pentagon.   
  
In the meantime, Remo would deposit Chiun at home with his fourteen steamer trunks,   
and then drive halfway to the nearest rental return office. After all these years, it still   
made Remo smile to abandon his rental cars by the side of a road, engine running, and to   
imagine Smith's expression when he received the credit card bill. And after the walk   
home, he'd probably need another pair of loafers.   
  
***  
  
At the same time, Buffy and her friends were once more patrolling the dark alleys of   
Sunnydale. Riley, Tara and Anya all stayed home, begging off for their own reasons, but   
the quartet of demon hunters carried on, undaunted. Giles' mind reeled with thoughts of   
what Sinanju could do to augment a Slayer's powers. Xander simply itched to try out a   
few moves that Remo had shown him, focusing all of his energy into his fingers during a   
strike, or feeling the presence of his foes on his skin. Xander was fully ready to sign up   
for karate lessons the next day, and work his way up to Sinanju, but he wasn't so eager to   
accept an all-rice diet, even if Remo assured him he would be rewarded with egg-lemon   
soup upon becoming a master. He couldn't figure out why his new friend had to stifle a   
laugh as he said this.   
  
Buffy and Willow walked a few steps ahead of the men, giggling over the day's   
experience. Buffy had occasionally felt frightened by past battles, but this time she was   
never more than annoyed; strangely, though, she had never felt more satisfied with the   
result of a fight. It helped that Remo was not only cute, but so oozing with that certain   
something. Buffy would never leave Riley for him, and Willow wouldn't go back just for   
him, but still… They giggled again.  
  
And in the darkness, on the far side of town, a monster howled.   



End file.
